Jun 15, 2011

Making Deadlines 101

Last night I began doing the dishes at 11:20 PM. I often like to set "target times" for myself to make a game out of them; sorta like "if I finish this essay by 2:00 then I can play Sporcle," but more mundane and with no prize other than a sense of accomplishment. At first, I decided that I should be done with the dishes by 11:30; I reconsidered and decided that that was more time that I needed. However, because I intended to go straight to bed after doing the dishes, I could encourage myself not to dawdle online by challenging myself to be in bed at 11:30.

11:28, the dishes were done. I quickly removed my gloves and dashed upstairs to brush my teeth. I came to the executive decision that 11:30 would count as long as it was before 11:31 (going by my watch's time, of course); that is to say, it was valid right up until 11:30.59.

11:30.35, I finished brushing my teeth. I spat into the sink and quickly rinsed out , which for whatever reason took longer than usual. I threw away my paper cup, and glanced at my watch. 11:30.48. I had as good as lost.

I ran into my room and turned the light on. I realized that my parameter was if I was in bed at 11:30, not if I was lying down and ready to sleep at 11:30; therefore if I got into my bed in time and got into pajamas without setting foot out of the bed, I was still in the clear. I leapt and bounded into my bed, and checked my watch. 11:30.56. I was safe, but I hadn't won yet.

Fortunately, changing into pajamas was quick and painless. I threw my dirty clothes across the room into the hamper, thinking I was about to taste sweet victory, until I made a horrible realization: the lights were on.

So, to recap:

I was sitting in my bed

I had to get across the room and back

I was not permitted to touch the floor.

That's right.

The floor was lava.

Now, allow me to provide you with a diagram of my room:

After a minute of planning, my route was decided, and I set out on my journey. I made my way over to the foot of my bed and leaned over to pull out the bottom drawer of the dresser nearest me. I then crouched on my bed and, holding onto the bedpost, reached my foot over into the drawer. I transferred over, and was somewhat stably across the first gap.

The second transfer was easier: I pulled my hamper a little closer to me, and set foot atop my clothes. My foot sank as the air space between my clothes was crushed, but I was ultimately standing in my last week's worth of filth.

The third "move" wasn't so much of a move as it was a maneuver. I turned around so I was facing the wall, and grabbed onto the bookshelf portion of the next dresser. (It's like a combo thing, where there are drawers on bottom and a bookshelf on top. You know.) I shifted my weight over, putting one foot into my pants drawer in the dresser, and reached over to turn the lights off. I climbed back into my hamper, across the first dresser, bridged the gap, and lay in my bed, victorious.

I am 17 years old and entering college in nine weeks, where I am expected to be a mature adult.

i was imagining they were like, fancy white gloves that doormen or opera ladies wear. we used to pretend the brown tiles on the floor were actually very square land mines that would blow off your leg if you stood on them.

It was actually brought to my attention yesterday that I should get a reusable cup, which is now in my short-term plans. It's like, I was raised with the paper cups and always sort of accepted it as part of tooth-brushing, so I never considered an alternative.

I'm not so sure I love your logic... your original goal was to be in bed by 11:30, which changed to not setting foot on your floor after 11:30. Clearly, the better thing to do would have been to scooch your bed across your room to the light, and then scooch it back.

You know, if you just stick your mouth under the tap you don't need a glass at all. In fact, that's how I usually drink water when I'm at home, because who am I, the queen? A glass is simply unnecessary.